


Oh The Joy

by Chipper_Daily



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Comedy, M/M, Mpreg, Past zadr, Smeets (Invader Zim), Swearing, Trans Male Character, i guess?, trans dib
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 18:55:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21653449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chipper_Daily/pseuds/Chipper_Daily
Summary: While filling out a mountain of alien paperwork around contractions of ever-shortening intervals and ever-increasing intensity while dehydrated in an uncomfortable chair at the Space DMV wasn’t TECHNICALLY the worst thing that had ever happened to him, it was steadily clawing its way up into the top five.
Relationships: Dib/Zim (Invader Zim)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 172





	Oh The Joy

**Author's Note:**

> This is it. This is hands-down the MOST wildly self-indulgent thing I have ever written. This was written for the 'smeet' prompt on the best zadr discord out there <3

It was probably the riskiest landing he’d ever attempted.

Not that the landing itself was difficult, the landing pad was flat, well-marked, and brightly lit in the middle of a wide-open field. 

The danger undoubtedly lay in Dib’s state while trying to land his small, space-faring vessel. 

He doubled over the control panel with a strained hiss as another wave of razor-sharp agony tightened mercilessly around his abdomen, and he fought to keep his eyes from instinctually squeezing shut. Sweat beaded on his brow, his knuckles white against the edge of the control panel as he tried to force himself to focus past the pain to follow the standard landing procedures. Which were thankfully mostly automated, since Dib wasn’t having much success with the ‘focus past’ part of his pain-management plan. He hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath until the wave subsided, and he found himself gasping for air as he gingerly straightened his posture over the panel. 

“ _Fuck._ ” He finally managed to croak, and that pretty much summed up his entire feelings on the matter at hand. It felt like a horse had kicked him in the spine. Pretty much every aspect of this whole god-awful ordeal had been unrelentingly horrible. While he was definitely NOT looking forward to the swiftly-approaching grand finale to his latest (and probably stupidest) misadventure thanks to fucking _Zim,_ he was absolutely ready for this whole mess to finally be over. 

Thankfully the landing went off without a hitch, the auto-land functions handling the entirety of the blessedly easy maneuvering smoothly, which was fortunate because Dib spent pretty much the whole thing gritting his teeth through another sharp contraction. 

If he ever hunted down that insufferable little Irken prick, he was going to hoof Zim square in his slimy tentacle _dick_ with his steel toes for putting him through this. 

He wasn’t sure where they came from since the landing pad had seemed completely abandoned during his descent, but a small entourage of three aliens figures all dressed in matching habits were already scurrying towards his ship by the time the landing bay doors had finished hissing open. The smallest, an ancient-looking Vortian leaning heavily on a twisted cane, briskly snatched his ratty backpack out of his hand. The other two, a portly Xliactian and a gangly four-armed species Dib couldn’t identify fussed over him before, despite his objections, they wedged themselves under his arms and all but carried him across the landing pad after the elderly Vortian. He quickly discovered the reason the landing pad had seemed abandoned- the institution was hidden underground.

Dib honestly couldn’t even remember what he’d thrown into the old backpack acting as his overnight bag. It was kind of lost in the frantic haze of the hours of panic that followed the _thoroughly disgusting_ discovery that his body had discharged what was apparently legitimately called his ‘mucus plug’ (grossly yet aptly named) in preparation for… labour. And then the sudden, gut-wrenching knowledge of _oh-shit-this-is-really-happening_ slammed into him like a freight train. He had no way of knowing for sure how long he’d been… pregnant (fuck, that was still weird). Earth’s solar calendar didn’t translate super well to, you know, literally anywhere else, so he hadn’t exactly been keeping track of how many weeks had dragged by. Not to mention, he had no way of knowing how far along he’d been before they even figured out he was harbouring the little fugitive. 

It shouldn’t have been possible in the first place- they were two completely different species. They weren’t even from the same _galaxy._ Hell, Zim wasn’t even a MAMMAL for god’s sake! 

But alas, apparently life finds a way, and Dib had been stuck with Zim’s shitty little smeet insistently kicking him in the bladder for god only knows how long. It was like it’s personal mission to continually remind Dib about how annoying its dad was, even in Zim’s absence. 

Make no mistake, Dib already felt like a fucking _whale_ (seriously, even his ankles felt fat at this point), but admittedly, he thought he would have been a bit… rounder. At least the ready-to-pop people back on Earth had looked bigger than he currently did, he was pretty sure. Maybe Irken smeets were smaller than human babies? That would be awfully convenient, for Dib at least. Then again, it’s not like Dib had any idea. For all he knew, Irkens could pop out (hatch?) at the exact size they were destined to be as an adult. Either way, he’d thought he had more time to figure out what the whole… _birthing process_ was going to look like. Admittedly, even if he'd been as large as a _moon,_ he almost definitely would've procrastinated to the point panic anyway. Squirting out Zim’s weird little mutant was something he absolutely did NOT want to think about. He was sure if his twelve-year-old self could see him now, he’d straight up _die_ from a rage-induced (or cringe-induced) aneurysm or something.

All Dib DID know was that he didn’t want to try squeezing it out alone. He’d never looked into the gory details, mostly because he’d never thought it would ever be relevant to _him,_ but he did know that human births could go… badly. And he _refused_ to wind up dying over one of Zim’s stupid messes. (If he did though, hoo boy, _hoooooo boy,_ Dib was absolutely going to come back as a furious Cosmic Ghosty, and dedicate his entire afterlife to giving Zim poltergeist dick-punches for the rest of the infuriating Irken’s miserable life.) 

Thus, he found out about this place: The Convent of the Eternal Mother Of Mothers- an interstellar non-profit for people in pretty much Dib’s exact situation. A safe, sanitary place with experienced staff on hand to aid in giving birth for people with no home, no monies, and no partner. 

And a pretty reputable orphanage. For shitty half-Irken smeets that belonged to even shittier Irken dads.

During the elevator’s descent, Dib learned the shrivelled Vortian’s name was Rama, the Xliactian was Heltaren, and the four-armed alien was… Gertrude, with the assurance that Dib could call her ‘Gertie’ if he’d like (Dib would not). The rest of the uncomfortably long trip was spent with the three of them grilling him for relevant information on his species. Humans hadn’t exactly made it out this far into the cosmos before, so they didn’t really have a frame of reference to help him. Up to and including barking at him to explain first; What a contraction was, second; How the human respiratory system worked, and third; Lecturing him that he really should remember to breathe during his contractions. 

By the time they reached whatever level they had needed to, Dib was genuinely questioning if coming here had been a good idea after all. Especially considering this was a Resisty-aligned establishment. He was unsure how well-received a perceived ‘Irken sympathizer’ (aka ‘fuck buddy’) and their half-breed squeezinz would be (even though he was about as far from ‘sympathizing’ with Zim at the moment as a person could get).

All remaining hope he may have had was crushed when he was led to a room that looked… uncomfortably like a DMV back on Earth. He shot a helpless look down at Rama- they weren’t seriously going to make him fill out _paperwork_ at this point, were they?? 

He was waved to sit in a chair, that took a full six minutes to agonizingly maneuver his way into, before someone took pity on him and brought him a glass of water. Dib bit back the almost hysterical urge to burst into tears because he had no idea if that cold, crisp, _delicious-looking_ glass of water was loaded with treacherous alien bacteria that was going to make his ass _explode._ He was already somewhere between 10 minutes to 10 hours (please, please, please not 10 hours) away from performing a pretty enormous, embarrassing, and disgusting mass exodus from his body in front of an audience already. Dib just did not have the inner strength to endure potentially making that humiliating display any worse than it was already destined to be. Come to think of it, boy howdy did he hope he remembered to pack his water bottle- where did Rama go with his backpack anyway? 

While filling out a mountain of alien paperwork around contractions of ever-shortening intervals and ever-increasing intensity while dehydrated in an uncomfortable chair at the Space DMV wasn’t _technically_ the worst thing that had ever happened to him, it was steadily clawing its way up into the top five. Seriously, how well did other species that rolled into this place know their own biology? _‘List all your known organs in order from smallest to largest:’_ Like, _seriously?_ Couldn’t they just ask him this shit when he wasn’t actively in the process of trying to squirt a watermelon through a hole the size of a lemon?? Because, he had to admit, that process was making it pretty hard to concentrate on literally anything else at the moment. 

Finally, he was summoned to enter a tiny, curtained-off, examination room. Nook. Whatever. It took another six excruciating minutes to squirm his way out of the uncomfortably low chair while the receptionist gazed on with bored unblinking disinterest and Dib silently cursed her entire family. Another Vortian, notably younger than Rama, was impatiently waiting for him in the claustrophobic room and watched in stony silence as he wiggled out of his pants and gingerly climbed up onto what appeared to be a stretcher. She _tsk’d_ peevishly once Dib had more or less settled down- _holy shit, why were the contractions somehow WORSE when he was lying down??_ \- and brusquely stepped closer to grab Dib by both ankles and yanked his legs open. Before he could even finish his indignant squawk, both the Vortian’s eyebrow ridges had raised, and she uttered a simple, surprised _“oh.”_ She promptly closed Dib’s legs once more, spun around on her tiny cloven hoof and ripped the curtain behind them open to dash away, leaving Dib to flounder in a desperate, panicked effort to cover himself. 

Moments later, two hulking aliens crowded into his little examination nook and wordlessly wheeled him out across the waiting room and through an airlock door in the back, entirely heedless of his outraged and flabbergasted cries for at least a towel or something to cover himself with. 

He was left in a room that looked a lot more like the kind of hospital environment he’d expect back on Earth, with it’s bare, sterile, white walls and bright fluorescent lights. And, of course, it was _cold._ The exposed squat, low toilet and small bathing basin tucked off to the side of his stretcher kind of ruined the illusion, though. Well, he supposed the desire for privacy was seen as a sign of weakness in the eyes of some species across the cosmos. In his brief moment of solitude, he squirmed up into a sitting position so he could shrug off his coat and laid that over his lap like a blanket. He opted to remain sitting despite how tired he was. It was slightly less uncomfortable than lying down. Honestly, every position was uncomfortable, but, well, there’s not much he could do about that at this point, now was there? Should have thought about that nine months or however long ago it’s been. 

His hands reflexively clenched into futile fists in the familiar black fabric draped over his lap as he squinted miserably behind his glasses with a sharp hiss. The pain was starting to edge into _actually_ unbearable territory.

This _sucked._

“You’re a jerk, Zim.” He uttered flatly into the cold, empty room once the wave subsided. He bit his lip before turning away with an explosive, frustrated sigh and ran a hand through his unruly hair. No, he was _over_ feeling sorry for himself. What had he been _thinking?_ That the two of them would miraculously _unfuck_ their lives, iron out the whole frenemies-with-benefits or WHATEVER they had been situation, and settle down together to play house just because Dib wound up saddled with what should have been a biological impossibility? Yeah, right. Dib, of all people, should have known better than to expect this to turn out literally any other way than it did. If their roles had been swapped, Dib would have bounced at the first opportunity too. 

The thought of either of them being a parent was a fucking joke. 

The thought was brittle and bitter and twisted in his chest like a jagged knife. As painful as it was to admit, deep, deep down, that’s what he _had_ wanted. That’s why he hadn’t looked into aborting the little freeloader until it was too late to do so. Just a small slice of a simple, domestic sort of life, where it was only he, and Zim, and whatever they had created together that was growing inside of him, taking their best shot at the family thing while exploring the far reaches of the cosmos. Where Dib meant even _half_ as much to Zim as the little Irken had meant to Dib. But, in the end, that was all just a stupid, childish, fantasy, and Dib should have known better. (And what a bitter fucking pill that was to swallow.)

Whatever Dib had thought he wanted didn’t matter now, though. All he had left to do was get through this (very literal) final push, and he could finally bring this confusing and painful chapter to a close and move on with his life. The ship was all his now, and the entire universe was his playground. He’d been alone before, and he could do it again. 

(He didn’t really want to, then again, since when did the universe ever care about what Dib wanted?)

Then Rama, Heltaren, and Gertrude arrived to interrupt his pity party. Rama wasted no time situating herself at the base of the uncomfortable stretcher, just barely tall enough to peek over the top of the flat mattress, and used her cane to rudely bat his ankles apart.

“You know, you COULD say hello or something before you go gawking at my junk!” Dib snapped as he flung his arms in the air. 

“Lie back, human.” The shrivelled Vortian snipped impatiently in return before leaning around his leg to make eye contact with Dib. “Unless you’d prefer to do this on your own?” 

“This sucks,” Dib grumbled mutinously as he gingerly leaned back on his shaky elbows while Heltaren and Gertrude swept in to helpfully poke a couple firm pillows beneath him to help prop him up. “You know, I’m having a pretty bad day here, and everyone being _rude_ about it isn’t really helping, just saying.” 

“I am terribly sorry you haven’t been very well attended to, Mr. Membrane,” Dib whirled to fix Heltaren with a look of wide-eyed shock as the Xliactian continued in a tone of perfect, polite, professional sympathy. “I’m afraid we’re unfamiliar with your species, so I must admit we’re a bit at a loss as to the best way we can help make this as smooth a process for you as it can be.” Dib stared up at Heltaren in silent awe. No one had _e v e r_ been this polite to him before in his entire life, and he was coming to the quick and entirely emotionally driven conclusion that he would take a bullet for the jellyfish-like alien. “Considering your unique physiology, we’re unable to administer conventional pain relief medications. However, we do have a Meekrob on staff who could assist-?” Dib was already frantically shaking his head in the negative. Meekrob meant brain business, and considering Dib had lied all over his admission forms claiming his former partner had been a human as well, he really wasn’t willing to risk exposing his freaky Irken-fucking fetish while literally on the delivery room table of what was basically an underground Resisty base. 

Dib was confident he could tough this out. Really, how bad could it get?

Heltaren gently brought it up again an hour later when Dib was openly sobbing, and he found himself much more agreeable to the suggestion the second time around. 

Thankfully, it didn’t take long for the Meekrob to arrive, the pressure in the room _shifted_ as the ethereal glowing creature slipped silently into their midst. A being of pure energy, their physical manifestation was only about the size of a cat. Though Dib had heard this small manifestation was more like the tip of an iceberg, and the vast majority of the almost entirely psychic species’ form dwelled on a plane of existence most sentient beings weren’t able to comprehend. 

The Meekrob settled in at the head of Dib’s stretcher with a slow, serene blink of their large, slanted teal eyes and a gentle, respectful incline of their head.

Dib couldn’t help but be reminded of a pair of floating lungs. With a band-aid slapped on it. 

Without further adieu, they delicately laid their small hands upon Dib’s temples. The effect was instantaneous, the agonizing pain dispelling like mist in a breeze to just leave the sensation of an intense pressure pushing on Dib’s abdomen and spine. In the same moment, Dib learned this particular Meekrob’s name was the sensation of awe and gratitude to be alive one feels on a crisp late-summer morning after a night of heavy rain when the first glorious rays of the rising sun hit the lush green grass on rolling hills at just the right angle that they glow molten, glistening, gold under a sky of warm pink hues. 

However, a simple meat creature like Dib, who was forced to rely on clumsy, primitive verbal communication, could refer to them as Cube. 

Dib blinked.

Wow. Zim had always said the Meekrob were a bunch of pretentious snots. 

Cube’s eyes widened in shock the second the memory of Zim wafted absently through Dib’s mind, and he realized his grave error a fraction of a second too late. Dib’s gaze flicked up to bore desperately into Cube’s, every fibre of his being silently pleading _please don’t tell please don’t tell please don’t tell._ The Meekrob eyed him critically for a moment before they set their jaw in grim determination and slightly nodded their head. Dib huffed a low sigh of relief before Cube’s musical ‘voice’ filled his mind once again. 

_< You know, if you’re a typical specimen, then the pain you humans endure during childbirth is notably MUCH worse than in any other species I’ve ever assisted in the past three centuries. Isn’t that interesting?>_

Dib’s face fell into a flat look of annoyance as his gaze slid from the Meekrob to the ceiling tiles. Yeah. Great. That’s precisely what he wanted to hear at this exact moment. 

Dib was actually shocked at how quickly the whole process was once it actually started, considering the agonizingly long lead-up. He’d been staring up at the ceiling, trying his best to block out the sounds of Heltaren and Gertrude chatting about their dinner plans over the swell of his stomach, just wishing he could _sleep_ when he was struck by a primal, bone-deep _urge_ that sent him bolting up onto his elbows. His legs shifted feebly across the smooth surface of the stretcher, his heels searching for something solid to brace against. The room fell silent as three sets of eyes turned to meet his as Dib swallowed thickly.

“Oh fuck.” He managed to squeak before he was gripped again by an ancient instinct imprinted in his very DNA- to _push._

He didn’t remember much from that point. There was Heltaren and Gertrude gushing encouragement at his sides, Rama must have gotten a box or something to stand on because suddenly she was visible over the edge of the stretcher, the impatient younger Vortian from the examination room had appeared at some point to hover awkwardly over Rama’s shoulder but Dib was so far beyond the point of caring that they could have paraded the whole damn base past in a conga line and he wouldn’t have batted an eyelash. Literally, all he cared about was _getting this fucking thing OUT of him._

And then it was done.

His body spasmed as the intense pressure suddenly gave way, followed by a full-body rush of sweet relief as Dib flopped bonelessly back down onto the stretcher, blessedly alone in his own body for the first time in who knows how long. Heltaren and Gertrude shuffled to the edge of the stretcher to huddle over the source of a tiny, shrill, indignant squawk, the flimsy first cry of a little creature that hadn’t existed before this very moment. 

It sounded just as offended by the whole ordeal as Dib was. 

He paid no mind to the way both Heltaren and Gertrude squinted, their expressions frozen in open bafflement as Rama’s lips pinched into a tight line as she carefully scrutinized the squirming mass in her arms. Dib ripped his glasses off to rub a hand over his face- oh _gross,_ he was _wet_ with sweat- when Rama’s gaze lifted to quirk an eyebrow up at the human.

“It’s attached by a cord.” 

“You have to cut it,” Dib croaked and, oof, he sounded rough as he licked his dry lips. “And just, uh, tie the end off near where it’s attached on its stomach.” 

“Um, I gotta be honest, I thought it would look more like you, you know?” Dib’s eyes snapped wide open with cold dread at the sound of Gertrude’s hesitant tone. _Goddamnit, Zim._

“That’s cuz it’s just a larva right now!” Dib blurted awkwardly as his head lurched up again to meet the suspicious gaze of the small entourage that had gathered around the base of the stretcher. “Once it gets older, it’s going to make a, uhhh… cocoon… and liquify…” He cleared his throat and continued in a firmer tone. “It’s called, um, a Quinceanera. Boy, it sure is a real shame there aren’t any other humans around to confirm that it’s definitely a thing that we all do to mark our, uh, sexual maturity. Because it sure is.” 

“Oh, okay, that sounds legit.” Gertrude chirped agreeably as everyone’s mollified gaze dropped back down to the softly chirping little mutant hidden from Dib’s view by his own torso. Which was now noticeably flatter than it had been when he’d waddled into this place. 

“What do we do with the length of cord still attached to you?” Rama’s gaze flicked back up to meet Dib’s.

“Oh, yeah, don’t worry about that, it’ll just come out with the afterbirth.”

Suddenly Dib found himself pinned with four incredulous stares once more before Gertrude awkwardly coughed into one of her hands.

“Um, so how many times do your species give birth to produce one child…?”

Rama, Heltaren, and the unnamed Vortian left to clean the smeet-thing up and run some quick medical tests to make sure everything was more-or-less normal, as well as they could identify for an unknown species at least, while Gertrude hung around to help with the afterbirth biz. After which she _freaked_ because she thought Dib had lost one of his full and complete human organs. She promptly showed Dib, who had approximately as much of an idea about what a human placenta looked like as she did. He also found himself on the verge of panic because, _holy shit,_ that sure did look like one of his full and complete human organs. In the end, it was Cube that had to sweep in and calm them both down by trailing their long, translucent glowing tendrils down the length of Dib’s body in the form of some sort of mystic CT scan. 

THAT’S why that question about listing all his organs was on the admission forms. Well then.

After that, it was... done.

Gertrude fussed over him a bit, she unfurled a soft blanket (where was THAT in the examination room??) and threw it over him, placed his almost-forgotten backpack within reach and attempted to fluff his pillows before Dib shooed her out. It was only once she hit the lights upon her exit, plunging the room into darkness, that Dib noticed the distinct lack of soft glowing blue and realized that Cube had slipped out of the room at some point too. 

Finally, FINALLY, Dib could sleep.

Whatever Cube had done to alleviate Dib’s discomfort the previous day had completely worn off by the time Dib eventually woke up after what he felt was not nearly enough sleep. 

He rolled onto his side and curled into himself with a low whimper. It felt like he’d been fisted by an _angry god._ There were parts of his junk aching that he previously didn’t know he _had._ He didn’t know why he’d expected to be more-or-less healed up after a long rest. Wishful thinking, probably. (Or perhaps unrealistic expectations seeded by videos of deliriously happy new mothers he’d watched during his woefully incomplete sex-ed classes back in Skool.) 

He stumbled across his second and third deeply unpleasant post-partum surprises in short order: He was still sluggishly leaking blood all over the place and taking a regular old piss felt like trying to pass _napalm._

So Dib fell back on one of his oldest traditions when it came to coping with feeling gross about his body- He sat in a piping hot bath in the dark and had himself a good old fashion cry about it. God, he was so _sick_ of dealing with this, and he REALLY just wanted his body to go back to _normal._

He only got out once the vaguely sulphur-scented water had gone cold, and even then, he didn’t bother with turning the lights back on or getting dressed again. He just used the blanket to wrap up into a tight cocoon and went back to sleep. 

When Dib woke up again, he felt as fresh as a daisy. He rolled onto his back with a soft hum and threw his arm over his still-closed eyes. Honestly, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so well-rested. The lingering pain had vanished entirely, leaving nothing but the warm comfort of his blanket cocoon and the distant sensation of… hunger? Yeah, that would make sense, the last thing he’d eaten was a stale candy bar, uh, yesterday. Or the day before? On his ship before getting here, anyway. 

Man, a hot bath and some sleep must have been precisely what he needed. Now he felt a bit embarrassed about his emotional meltdown in the tub. The real surprise here was that his old Skool sex-ed videos apparently weren’t _totally_ misleading. 

Then he pulled his arm away from over his eyes to run a hand through his hair- that he completely forgot to wash during his Despair Soak, whoops- and opened his eyes to an ethereal blue glow.

Cube blinked slowly and smiled sweetly down at Dib from where they hovered weightlessly at the head of his stretcher.

“Oh. _You._ ” Dib’s voice was still rough as his eyes fell to suspicious half-lidded slits. He hadn’t forgotten that the Meekrob was the only one who knew the truth of Dib’s weird little mutant’s parentage, and he found himself uneasy being alone in the mysterious Meekrob’s presence. He couldn’t shake the sneaky suspicion that he was about to get black-mailed or something. 

_< The smeet appears healthy, and has quite a voracious appetite if I do say so myself.>_

“Well, good for it.” Dib snorted dismissively as he eyed up the floating alien. “Why are you here?”

_< To put your mind at ease about the well-being of your child, Mr. Membrane.>_ Cube didn’t have eyebrows, or much range in facial expressions at all, but Dib still _felt_ Cube critically raise theirs on a higher plane of existence. _< ‘It’ is a boy, by the way.>_

“Is it?” Dib blinked in surprise.

_< He is shaped very similarly to you, so to the extent of our knowledge your species would identify him as a male.>_

Oh boy, that stung more than Dib expected. He clenched his teeth and quickly glanced away. 

_< Unless, of course, there is some finer distinction between sexes among your kind? If that is the case, I apologize if I offended you. Perhaps if you were to check the smeet yourself, you could clarify?>_ Dib was already stubbornly shaking his head no.

“I don’t think that will be necessary.” Dib’s tone was clipped as he still refused to meet Cube’s eyes. All things considered, outside of being aroused, Zim looked like he just had a vagina too, and he was considered a male, right? (Male enough to shoot a shitty little smeet into Dib and ditch him, anyway.) Dib crossed his arms as something dark twisted in his chest. How fucked up was it that he literally couldn’t even tell what gender his stupid half-breed was supposed to be? More proof that Dib wasn’t cut out to be a parent. “And don’t call it a ‘smeet.’ That’s an Irken thing.” 

_< But he IS an Irken thing, is he not? At least partially.>_ Dib’s grip on his arms tightened defensively as eyes narrowed. There it was, he knew it. _< I must admit, Mr. Membrane, I’m a bit… at a loss as to how to process your situation. Two Irkens producing an Unregistered smeet together is exceedingly rare. An Irken creating one with an Other? Especially an Irken Invader with a member of the species it’s been sent to conquer? It’s unheard of. It… flies in the face of much of what we know about Irkens, honestly.>_ Dib tugged the corner of his blanket up over his face and rolled onto his side with an annoyed groan to hide the heat he could feel rising in his cheeks. He and Zim and whatever they had been certainly wasn’t whatever kind of grand sweeping epic tale of forbidden love Cube seemed to think it was. 

Dib was just a perpetual fuck-up who flunked out of the university that his dad had pulled some crazy strings to rope Dib into, even with his decidedly lacklustre high school gades. Shit blew up at home when Dib rolled up onto the front step of his dad’s house with all his worldly possessions and Dib wound up sleeping in his car that night (not that he slept, honestly). Dib moving back in again was a bad fit for everyone in the house, and he just wound up constantly fighting with both his dad and his sister. Dib could admit now, with time and distance between him and the needlessly hostile nineteen-year-old he’d been, that his mental and emotional state at that point had been… not great. And those factors hadn’t done him any favours when it came to dealing with his family. 

So one day, he'd thrown everything that could fit in his ratty old backpack and left. 

He coaxed Tak’s ship to take him somewhere- _anywhere_ \- else, and he hadn’t returned to Earth since. 

He should have known better than to trust the ship. To the surprise of Dib and _literally no one else,_ it ditched him at the first opportunity on the mostly empty parking lot of what was basically a space 7-11. 

So that’s where his grand ‘adventure of a lifetime’ had led him: Trying to recover after the package of soft baked goods that looked promisingly similar to a pair of twinkies he’d shoplifted made him projectile vomit into a garbage can for twenty minutes. He was stranded with only a trickle of safe water, no food, no money, no ship, he hadn’t showered in at least two weeks, and now he was even more dehydrated and hungry than he’d been before he tried to steal some food. 

It was, without a doubt, the lowest point of his entire life. 

So, naturally, that’s the state Zim found him in. 

His childhood rival threw a cup of dry instant noodles at his head, and they screamed at each other on the parking lot until Dib seriously thought he was going to faint. 

Then Dib was morosely pouring the last of his lukewarm water into the Mr. Noodle cup Zim had _graciously_ provided for him while curled up on the floor of Zim’s Voot. The little Irken at least agreed when Dib stubbornly put his foot down on _not_ returning to Earth. However, that meant they were going to need a bigger ship. 

Honestly, to this day, Dib had no idea why Zim hadn’t just abandoned him on that parking lot. Or why he’d bothered to track Tak’s ship in the first place, really. Sure, Zim had mostly shelved his more outrageous plans for world domination once he figured out his Tallests weren’t actually planning on showing up (and had seemingly just shifted all his revolutionary energies into _annoying Dib_ ). But, Zim was still more-or-less settling into his life as a citizen, instead of conquerer, of Earth surprisingly well. (Better than Dib, as much as it stung to admit.) It worked out well enough for Dib, at least, in that he didn’t wind up dying behind a space 7-11 from eating a gnarly twinkie. The downside being that now he was stuck in close quarters with his embarrassingly clueless bitter rival that he’d had the STUPIDEST on-again-off-again crush on since high skool. 

That was fine though, Dib had been repressing his feelings for almost five years now, he could probably just keep doing that until he died or something. He was a MASTER at bottling his emotions. 

And that plan worked beautifully for a while, a _long_ while, actually.

Right up until they started having sex anyway. 

There wasn’t any grand, sweeping, change between them, it just… happened. They had been the center of each other’s worlds for so long that falling into each other felt as natural and inevitable as the pull of gravity. Dib was already ~~in love~~ obsessed with the horrid little Invader on every other level, why _not_ wind up physically entwined with Zim too?

Well, getting knocked up and ghosted was a pretty strong deterrent, not that Dib had any inkling _that_ specific scenario lurked in his future at the time. 

He was drawn from his thoughts by the strange, full-body sensation of Cube sighing.

_< I know it is not quite my place, and I cannot pretend to understand the nature of your relationship with the Irken Invader, but I really must insist that you should see your smeet at least once before you sign him over into our care. It’s in your nature to be->_ Dib poked his head out of his blanket to level a tired, dark look up at the Meekrob.

“I’m gonna stop you right there with a gentle warning- Incorporeal or not if you’re about to say ‘nurturing,’ I WILL find a way to punch you in the head.” He interrupted flatly.

_< -Curious.>_ Cube finished bluntly as they critically eyed Dib up. _< I sincerely feel you will regret it later in life if you don’t.>_

“You don’t know me.” Dib snorted snidely with an exaggerated eye roll as he ducked down into his blanket again.

_< You’re right, I don’t know you, but I DO know what’s going on in your mind, and right now you’re feeling disappointed, hurt, defensive, and angry.>_

“You can’t prove any of that.” Dib snipped angerly as he defensively crossed his arms in hurt disappointment under his blanket. 

_< And all of those intense, conflicting, feelings are directed towards your smeet’s other parent, yet you are punishing your smeet on his father’s behalf.>_

“I’m not _punishing_ it!” Dib snapped and ripped his blanket back away from his face in frustration. 

_< You are purposefully denying a child the love of his father because you are angry at his other father. You are pushing him away- thus, punishing him- for something entirely beyond his control.>_

“That’s not why I’m leaving it- _him,_ whatever.” Dib propped himself up on his elbow to evenly meet Cube’s gaze with a frown. “And for an ‘ascended being’ or whatever, you’re awfully quick to judge, you know.” He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, his gaze flicked irritably towards the open doorway before meeting the Meekrob once more. “Look, I don’t know _anything_ about being a parent, ok? I can barely manage to take care of _myself,_ let alone a little person-thing that’s going to need me to do, like, _everything_ for it.” Dib’s brow furrowed as his gaze fell to glare down at his hand, curled into a tight fist on the stretcher. “My dad…” He haltingly started before he swallowed thickly and tried again. “My dad wasn’t cut out to be a parent either. Still, he decided to give it a good old fashion try, and both me and my sister wound up pretty fucked up because of it. I don’t want to risk ruining some poor kid’s entire life because I can’t get my shit together, ok? It’s- it’ll be easier for everyone if we all just go our separate ways before anyone gets too attached.” 

_ <You’re not your father, Mr. Membrane.>_

“You sure as fuck make me feel like it when you call me Mr. Membrane.” Dib huffed roughly. “Seriously, just Dib is fine.” 

_< My statement still stands. I think you’re getting caught up in the idea you’re destined to make mistakes and fall into the same patterns of abuse that you already know are hurtful and wrong. You’re an intelligent man, Dib, you know how to be better, yet you’re too wrapped up in nursing old wounds to allow yourself to heal. Your smeet is going to grow and thrive, with or without you, you’re not wrong in that. I’m pushing this because I think it will be beneficial for YOU to see what you’ve created. That this strange and painful point in your life wasn’t just a waste of time. You made something beautiful and worthwhile, and you should be proud of that.>_ Cube’s lips twitched into something close to a smile. _< Besides, he’s rather cute, if I do say so myself.>_

“Are you done?” Dib groaned and flopped back down onto the stretcher to petulantly cross his arms again. “Because I think I’d rather be sleeping instead of getting lectured. Just saying.” 

_< I suppose that’s fair.>_ Cube sighed. _< I cannot speak on your upbringing, but I can say that Irkens only know how to… consume and throw away. Whatever happened between you and your lover wasn’t your fault, it’s merely an Irken’s nature to use, I’m afraid. His behaviour is not indicative of your value, solely of his own programming. Both you and your smeet deserve to be cherished. However, I feel I’ve perhaps already overstayed my welcome. I hope you’ll seriously consider what I’ve said, though. If you need me, I’ll be around.>_ The Meekrob’s incandescent form flickered like a candle flame in the darkness as their small mouth split into a too-wide grin that didn’t seem to fit on their petite face. _< Literally! I exist in every room of this base at ALL times. You know, just a fresh and fun little secret between friends.>_ Cube slowly winked one of their slanted teal eyes like it was their first time attempting the oddly human gesture before instantly dissolving into a fine mist of faintly glowing sparks that slowly faded into the darkness like a spent firework. 

Dib watched the glitter fade with a look of wide-eyed horror for a moment before he whispered, softly but emphatically, into the dark.

“What the actual fuck.” 

Still, despite his best attempts to push what the strange little Meekrob had said from his mind, he’d be lying if he tried to say he wasn’t curious about what a ~~cross between Zim and Dib~~ human/Irken hybrid looked like, sounded like, _behaved_ like. 

Then again, his dad had also been curious about what it would be like to have a little clone or two scampering around, and Dib was intimately familiar with what a disaster that turned out to be. 

But this felt… different from scientific curiosity. Deeper. Like squirting out the little monster had left a metaphorical void in Dib, along with a very literal one. No matter what logic and reason he scrounged up to rationalize leaving the mutant smeet behind, there was still some raw, emotional, almost definitely hormone-driven urge that would swell beneath his ribs with the whimpering cry of _‘but what if- what if- what if-’_

His will finally crumbled later that evening after he’d kept down a warm meal and was deemed medically fit to leave the base. 

Dib hesitated by the door to what had been his room before he chanced a glance back to watch Gertrude humming tunelessly to herself as she briskly cleaned up. His heart was pounding against his ribs as he quickly looked away to glare down at the ratty old backpack gripped too tightly in his calloused hands. Finally, he licked his dry lips, steeled himself, and lifted his gaze once more. 

“How… How is he?” Dib inwardly winced at how awkward he sounded as Gertrude startled and whirled on him with wide eyes. It took the four-armed alien a second, but comprehension dawned in her narrow deep-green eyes and her whole body relaxed as a warm smile lit up her face.

“Oh, he’s a chatty little bean, Mr. Membrane, and cute as a button. I’m sure he’ll find a good home in no time, don’t you worry.” 

“ _Chatty?_ ” Dib blurted, bewildered, before he could stop himself.

“You know what I mean,” Gertrude playfully scoffed with a limp hand wave. “You always know when he’s awake because he’s just chirping and clicking away, especially if he knows he’s going to be fed soon. I think he’s just happy to be here, you know?” She paused as she carefully eyed up Dib, her expression softened from a smile to a gentle look of concern. “Would you… like to see him?” 

His gaze fell to his backpack again as he gritted his teeth. He didn’t know why, but he could feel his face heating up under her probing stare. 

“I… think I would.” He swallowed thickly.

The nursery was closer than Dib had anticipated even with his slower pace, thanks to how sore he still was. Still, the walk felt like it took both an eternity and no time at all. He hesitated at the doorway, feeling strangely shy as Gertrude quickly swept past him into the dimly lit room. There were about half a dozen squat little boxes suspended on wheeled stilts, with a single small shelf crammed full of linens and miscellaneous bottles covered in alien text Dib couldn’t read beneath each box. Otherwise, the room was sparsely decorated beyond the dim, blue-tinted lights drilled into the low ceiling. Gertrude swept past the first row of bassinets, her fingertips traced absently along the lip of the center box, to hunch over the edge of the bassinet tucked away in the furthest corner. Two of her hands lightly gripped the side of the box as her other two dipped into the box with a soft coo. She murmured sweetly down into the box as Dib sagged heavily against the doorframe, his arms crossed awkwardly across his chest tight enough that he could feel his heart anxiously pounding. This was probably a bad idea. Yeah, this was definitely a bad idea, he should just go- 

But then Gertrude straightened up and gently motioned him over with one of the hands that had been resting on the edge of the bassinet as she shuffled over to make room for him. 

God, why was he so nervous? It was the same little turd that had been kicking the shit out of his innards over the past few months. He was just… putting a face to the tiny terror. No big deal, right?

Right.

Dib steeled himself and hauled himself away from the doorframe. 

“He’s sleeping right now, but it’s not a problem if you want to hold him-” Gertrude started in an exaggerated whisper before Dib abruptly cut her off with a vehement shake of his head. He shoved his hands firmly into his coat pockets too, just in case the four-armed alien got any further forced-cuddling ideas. Thankfully she didn’t press the issue and silently stepped out of the way to clasp both sets of hands over her thin chest. 

It- he- was tightly swaddled in a soft, fuzzy blue blanket when Dib finally nervously peeked over the edge, only his round little face was visible in the low light. Which even in the blue-tinted lighting Dib could tell was an alarming shade of _green,_ because of-fucking-course it would be, _thanks Zim._ Dib’s stomach dropped. Honestly, at first glance, it did look pretty bang-on like an Irken. Well. Nice to know he’d just been an incubator for a tiny Zim clone, that was a great feeling. If he ever found Zim again, Dib was going to kick him to _death._

Then it’s little eyelids fluttered lightly against it’s cheeks, it’s large eyes flicking beneath it’s eyelids, following whatever newborn hybrid’s dreamed about, when Dib noticed it had impossibly tiny little eyelashes. Dib’s breath caught in his throat, unnamed emotion welling up beneath his ribs.

Like an impossibly tiny little human.

Once he noticed one human trait, others became clearer- the faint outline of delicate little eyebrows, the dip of a procheilon from it’s upper lip, smaller, rounder eyes beneath a more pronounced brow ridge. And without needing to see it, he already knew it would have a navel on it’s little green stomach too, unlike any full-blooded Irken. 

Entranced, he hadn’t even noticed his hands had slipped out of his pockets, one to tightly grip the edge of the bassinet, the other to gently poke the smeet- _his_ smeet- in one of it’s chubby little cheeks, as if to make sure what he was seeing was real. 

Dib couldn’t believe how _soft_ it- he- was, his tiny brow furrowing as his chubby face bunched up, and he squirmed in his blanket cocoon, clearly displeased with being rudely prodded while he was trying to sleep. That was fair, Dib could relate. Small eyes cracked open, the barest little slits of vibrant red fluttering momentarily in the dim blue light, as a tiny, flat pink tongue bleeped over his bottom lip, and his face smoothed as he settled back down to sleep again. 

Dib was gripped with the almost irresistible urge to rip off his blanket to count how many tiny fingers he hand. To see if his ribs were broad and robust like a human, or narrow and short like an Irken, or some combination of the two. Did he have organs or a spooch? Or both? _Could_ he have both? How would that even _work?_ Did he have tiny fingernails or little claws? Either way, his little baby’s skin was so, so soft, he could probably easily accidentally cut himself with either if they weren’t trimmed. Concern tinted the edge of Dib’s rapid-fire musings. Did the people here know they had to keep an eye on that? Was that a thing other species had to deal with? Maybe he should remove the blanket and check- but his smeet-thing was sleeping, and Dib had no idea how to re-wrap the blanket to properly swaddle him again if he disturbed the poor thing.

His hand hovered hesitantly for a moment before Dib settled on just lightly resting it over his little smeet’s tiny chest. Just to feel how warm he was, to feel him breathe. 

_God,_ he was- he was a little person. Just a tiny, defenceless little _person._ One day he was going to have a favourite colour, and subjects he’d stay up way past his bedtime reading about because they fascinated him, and a first crush, and dreams, goals, and opinions on politics and sports teams and shit. 

And he never would have existed without Dib (and Zim). 

He’d- _they’d_ made an entire other being, a tiny consciousness, and that was enormous, surreal, scary, and wonderful. 

“So, uh,” Dib hadn’t been expecting his voice to sound so rough as he looked up at Gertrude. “What are you feeding him?” 

\---

The pilot seat creaked beneath Dib’s weight as he flopped into the l-shaped chair with a grateful groan and stretched his arms above his head. He was still sore, and according to Rama, he would be for a while yet, but getting back into his ship was already starting to make him feel a bit more like his old self. 

“Hey computer, where’s the nearest place to get a cheeseburger?” He yawned as he folded his hands behind his head.

//There is a Beesechurger Balace approximately 6.43 quiblets away. Shall I set that as our next destination?//

“Why else would I ask?” Dib quirked an eyebrow before leaning forward to hunch over his lap, his elbows resting on his knees, to address the small box on the floor between his feet. “None for you, though. You’re stuck with nasty formula for a while yet.” He reached down to gently poke one vibrantly green chubby cheek. His smeet scrunched up his tiny face with a wet grunt of disapproval and Dib felt himself grin. “You’re gross.” He huffed affectionately and leaned back into the pilot seat to busy himself with the preparations for lift-off. 

Heltaren and Gertrude had given him a mountain of ‘bringing baby home’ informational pamphlets, along with a few cloth diapers, swaddling blankets and other essentials like formula. He hadn’t seen Cube again before he left, but he figured the Meekrob probably knew what happened. Smug asshole. 

Once he’d finished double-checking the coordinates, he glanced down into the make-shift bassinet again. He was met with wide red eyes and a bright chirp. One of the smeet’s little feet had squirmed free of Dib’s sloppy attempt at a swaddle (five nubby little toes and five fat little fingers, all tipped with boring human fingernails, so take THAT, Zim) and kicked wildly into the air. 

“Are you excited to see space, bug?” Not that he could see much from the floor. Dib would have to look into modifying a seat for him. Dib was going to have to alter a fair amount of the ship to accommodate his little smeet once he got a bit bigger and mobile. That was fine though, they had time for Dib to heal a bit more first, and for his smeet to grow. The little smeet trilled sweetly up at his dad, his fuzzy antenna perking forward with interest. They reminded Dib a bit of a moth, which was fitting, he supposed. Something soft and warm fluttered in Dib’s chest. “I suppose I’ll need to think of a name for you too, huh?”

His gaze flicked back up and out through the arching dome window to the stars twinkling high above. They had time to figure things out. They had all the time they needed. 

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick note- Zim didn't up and bail on Dib for no reason, he's just an idiot that realized belatedly that producing an 'unregistered' smeet (aka a natural-born smeet instead of one of the mass-produced clones from the Smeeteries under Irk's surface) automatically brands that smeet and both it's parent's as Defectives in the eyes of the Irken Empire, which would mean bad news for Dib & smeet if Zim's ever caught and hooked up to the Control Brains again. Not that Dib knows literally anything about any of that. Instead of sticking around and talking it out like an emotionally well-adjusted person, Zim backflipped out of there like the melodramatic drama queen he is. They'll wind up reconnecting... later. Much later. (This is part of an extended au I almost definitely will never get around to writing, whoops whoops.)
> 
> This was named after a song! Check it out here on [Youtube](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VotKcEJyrbM) or [Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/track/2k0HoBhlCFDIKjODYBGb7m?si=rMfFXVoqRWeU_QjdlknGeg)
> 
> !EDIT!: The lovely ChopstickGirl241 was kind enough to do a reading of this fic- it's really well done & I love it and you can check it out right [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24119638) if podfics are your jam! Thank you again, Shyna, I'm beyond touched that you made this T^T
> 
> And, as always, thank you so much for reading and have a lovely day <3


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